


Chanukkah, Ivy Town, 2033

by areyouarealmonster



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: ColdAtom Secret Santa, Jewish Character, M/M, Secret Santa, chanukkah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouarealmonster/pseuds/areyouarealmonster
Summary: The team lands in 2033 to find and correct a small anachronism, and nobody is quite prepared for what they find there. Also, it's Chanukkah.





	Chanukkah, Ivy Town, 2033

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisyrachel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyrachel/gifts).



 

When Leonard died, when things calmed down, Ray and Marty led the team in the Mourner’s Kaddish. Gideon put the transliteration up on her screens, and the team read along in halting Hebrew. There was no body to bury, nothing to get in the ground, so this is what they could do, as soon as they could.

 

As the months go by—weeks, decades, minutes, years, who cares about time when time is fake—the team gets better at the prayer. Ray knows you’re only _supposed_ to say it for someone on the anniversary of their death, but there are no anniversaries in the time stream. Time is fake, but remembrance is forever.

 

Anyway, rules are for other people, not Legends.

 

Holidays pass, and they celebrate Chanukkah in July, Christmas in February, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur somewhere around the time they are in the fall, Eid in May, Easter at New Years and New Years at Easter. Team members come and go, and everyone learns the Mourner’s Kaddish.

 

Sara can’t get the hard “ch” sound, Jax relies on his psychic connection with Marty for fluidity and he barely looks at the text—but if you tried to get him to do it when Marty isn’t, he can’t dredge up a single Hebrew word. Kendra learned it and left, Rip already knew it and says it whenever he’s back for a holiday. Mick also already knew it, from being dragged to High Holiday services with the Snart siblings over the years. Amaya picks it up quickly, and Nate knows enough languages that what’s one more? Hebrew and Arabic are close _enough_ that it doesn’t take Zari any time to get it down.

 

So of course, the second every member on the team can recite it well enough that the sound of the team saying it lifts Ray’s heart and makes him feel like maybe everything is going to be okay, that’s when Leonard comes back from the dead.

 

* * *

 

The funny thing is that it’s almost exactly three years to the date of Leonard’s sacrifice. Kind of. Approximately.

 

Also, it’s Chanukkah. Probably, somewhere.

 

Gideon told them that maybe it would be a good time to celebrate, and they rely on her calendars. Lunar and solar—they’ve got three calendars going on the Waverider. Two lunar, one solar. Four if you count the time Ray got excited and asked Gideon to keep track of the stardate, but nobody really checks that one unless Ray is bored and sat in the captain’s chair and wants to dictate a captain’s log.

 

So it’s Chanukkah, and Leonard’s alive. He pops up in 2033, in Ivy Town, an anachronism that the Legends don’t discover for a few months (years?), since it’s only a level two.

 

And it’s the third night of Chanukkah. In Ivy Town. In 2033. Definitely.

 

The current team consists of Ray (ATOM suit completely intact, heart mostly intact), Sara (Captain, White Canary, in command, team mom), Jax (formerly Firestorm, currently ship’s mechanic, trying to figure out who he is on his own while Marty figures out how to be a grandfather and how to deal with retirement and the quiet life), Amaya (Vixen, one half of the totem dream team), Zari (just Zari, and the other half of the totem dream team), Nate (still Steel, still team historian, still bleeds and doesn’t stop until he steels up), and Mick (a calmer Heatwave, currently storing his lighter and his heart with Nate).

 

They’re not sure what the problem is when they first land and step off the ship, part of it being a level two anachronism. There aren’t really any news articles, not really anything _particularly_ wrong, just something’s _off_. It doesn’t feel like anything, but Gideon insists, so here they are.

 

The team splits up to explore: Ray and Nate drag Mick to Ivy University, Sara and Jax check out downtown, Amaya and Zari stay on the ship in case anything goes wrong and they need to fly to the rescue.

 

Christmas spirit is _everywhere_ and Ray isn’t prone to grumbling, but the music grates. The lights are pretty, though, and Nate’s excitement is infectious. As they get deeper into the university grounds, Ray sees various peeks of Chanukkah decorations, blue and white lights strung up between the multicolored Christmas ones, gel menorah and dreidel shapes stuck to dorm windows.

 

Nothing seems horribly out of place until they’re passing faculty office after faculty office, pine wreaths and red baubles hung on the doors, with a few in between bare or with a menorah-covered banner, and they pass one that sticks out most of all. It’s completely blue and white, an explosion of Chanukkah decorations, two bowls physically screwed into the outside of the door, one full of gelt and the other full of dreidels, with a rip-off pad of instruction sheets on how to play.

 

Luckily, this catches and holds Ray’s attention, otherwise he would have missed the name on the sign, buried between explosions of fluffy blue and white: ‘ _Professor Snart_.”

 

That’s too much of a coincidence, and he knocks on the door without letting himself think twice about it.

 

“Why are you knocking?” Nate hisses, but shuts up after Ray points to the plaque. Mick huffs behind him, and Ray knows how Mick must be feeling—nervous, worried, ‘what if it’s him,’ ‘what if it’s _not him_ …’—all the things Ray is feeling.

 

“Office hours are over!” calls a cranky drawl from behind the door, and Ray can’t breathe, because he _knows_ that voice, that’s _Leonard_ , and he’s frozen and Mick is silent behind him, too.

 

_It’s him it’s him it’s—_

 

Nate calls through the closed door, “We’re not students! We’re, uh, well, you don’t know me but I’m here with Mick Rory and Ray Palmer.” Ray shoots him a grateful look. Nate pats him on the back in return before stepping around behind them, letting Ray and Mick be in the front, a comforting presence at their backs.

 

Ray would move, would let Mick be in front as he hears hurried footsteps to the door, but he can’t, because Leonard is _dead_ , he’s _dead_ , it’s a Chanukkah miracle…

 

The door is flung open, an even bigger explosion of blue and white behind the curve of that head, those piercing blue eyes, and—

 

“Are you wearing an ugly Chanukkah sweater?” Ray blurts out, his attention captured by the hideous sweater on a torso where he’s so used to seeing deep navy, black, gray.

 

“ _Snart_ ,” Mick says, and winds up to punch him in the face. Nate catches him in time, steeling up to be able to keep a hold on Mick.

 

“Woah, buddy,” Leonard says, holding his hands up in surrender. Once he’s sure that Nate has a good grip on Mick, his eyes flick quickly over to Ray and then back before he says, “I wondered how long it would take you guys to find me. I tried to make a bit of a wave, without fucking up the timeline too much. How’d I do?”

 

“How are you alive?” Ray asks, not processing Leonard’s question.

 

Leonard shrugs, finally turning his attention to Ray. His eyes are still piercing, but they’re softer than Ray remembers. “Don’t know. There was…” He waves a hand vaguely in the air. “Time? All of time? I think I was trapped in the time stream. Then there was, uh, well it felt like a time quake, but magnified, and I didn’t have the Waverider to protect me, so it felt like my whole existence was in the epicenter of an earthquake.” He shrugs, downplaying the seriousness of his words. “Then I woke up here, in Ivy Town.”

 

“You could’ve sent us a message,” Mick growls.

 

“I _tried_ ,” Leonard says, pleading seeping fleetingly into his tone. “I didn’t have an ATOM suit to cannibalize for parts to make a, what was it, _time beacon_?” Ray can only nod. “And I don’t know the frequency of the Waverider anyway, but I _tried_ , Mick.”

 

Mick sags, and Nate lets go, metal shifting back to flesh. Nate steps back again, giving them some space, taking some time to call the team and update them. Ray is glad for the pause as they all watch Nate walk away, and he’s sure Mick is too.

 

Leonard, he’s not so sure about. Leonard’s always been hard to read, inscrutable. Subtle, except when he’s not. Confusing, with his sharp eyes and even sharper tongue juxtaposed against the way those eyes used to linger on Ray, the way that tongue used to cajole even as it bit. A warm hand on Ray’s shoulder, a jab in his pride, a warmth that Ray didn’t realize was present until the man was gone. Until he was lost.

 

It’s Leonard who breaks the silence, addressing Ray’s initial question with, “Yes, _Raymond_ , I’m wearing a Chanukkah sweater. Even in the future, Christmas season is overwhelming, and I like to give my Jewish students, and myself, a fun little haven. There’s no Christmas music in here. _Ever_.”

 

“It’s really ugly,” Ray blurts out. “The sweater, I mean!” He’s overwhelmed, and he’s still not sure this is real. His name on Leonard’s tongue after he thought he’d never hear it again feels like a dream come to life.

 

Leonard chuckles. “ _Thanks_ ,” he drawls, his smirk softened out into a small smile. That’s it for Ray, and he rushes forward and wraps himself around Leonard. “Oof,” Leonard exhales, “missed you too, Boy Scout.” His hands are warm against Ray’s back, and Ray feels tears welling up. He blinks them back and away, as he remembers that Mick has more of a reason to miss Leonard than he does.

 

He steps back, subtly wiping at his eyes, and looks to Mick.

 

Mick is standing still, his eyes fixed on Leonard. They need a moment, Ray thinks, as he watches Leonard meet Mick’s gaze. “I’ll go check in with Nate,” Ray says, his voice surprisingly steady, and he walks off quickly before either of them can respond.

 

He just hopes their alone time doesn’t end in punching.

 

Leonard looks softer, Ray thinks as he walks over to where Nate is standing, hands in his pockets, looking out across the snowy quad. Ray mirrors his motions, butting his shoulder up against his friend’s. Nate keeps quiet—unusual for him, but then he knows how much Leonard meant to Ray, to the team.

 

He knows the words to the Mourner’s Kaddish now, after all. For Leonard. A man he didn’t even know. So he gets it, clearly, and stays silent.

 

Ray looks out the window, the cold seeping in through the glass even against the warmth radiating out of the heating system. He’s stood here before, he’s sure. Looked out across this quad a million times. Probably even had a professor in the same office Leonard is using now. Not that he went to office hours much, he never needed to. Even with all the years that have passed—for this place, if not for Ray—it still feels the same.

 

To find Leonard here, in a place that Ray knows so well, in a place that Ray called home at one point, is surreal. And Leonard’s eyes were warm, warmer than Ray has ever seen them. He wonders how long Leonard has been here, how long he’s been waiting—he wonders suddenly what Leonard is a professor of, and why Leonard picked _this life_ out of all the ones he could have chosen, here, in the future.

 

He would have been less surprised to find Leonard ruling the criminal underground but, then again, Leonard gave his life for them. Not really a criminal thing to do. Leonard really did stop being a criminal on the Waverider, really wanted to do good, in the end. And in his new beginning, apparently.

 

“Did you catch what he teaches?” Ray asks Nate. “I mean, I know this is the sciences wing, but it’s all a mess of if there’s an empty office and—”

 

“Engineering, of some sort,” Nate answers, cutting him off. “Saw a bunch of electronics under all the decorations.”

 

Ray almost laughs. _Of course_. An electrical engineer. He should have known.

 

Footsteps, half-running, and Sara and Jax appear around the corner.

 

“Is it really him?” Jax asks, puffing a bit from keeping up with Sara. Ray nods, his throat tight again. Jax’s eyes are wide and hopeful, Sara’s steady gaze hiding the feelings that Ray knows are bubbling up inside.

 

“Yeah, I was giving him and Mick some time to catch up. I suppose we can go check on them and say hi,” Ray answers, and leads them all back, Nate trailing behind the crowd once again. Ray hates that his best friend is feeling out of place, but he can’t focus on that right now because Leonard is _here_ , he’s _back_ , he’s _alive_ …

 

Silence as they round the corner, then soft voices, then Mick’s broad back as he faces Leonard leaning back against his desk. Leonard looks up over Mick’s shoulder, his gaze meeting Ray’s only for a fleeting moment before it catches on Jax and Sara. Mick turns, and Ray sees that his eyes are red.

 

As Jax and Sara greet Leonard, welcoming him back with fervor, Ray and Nate walk to Mick, to stand on either side of him, hoping their warmth makes it through to his soul. He’s gonna have a hard time with this, just like he had a hard time with each and every iteration of Leonard that walked through their door—hallucination or otherwise—since Leonard’s death. A hard time when they walked in, and an even harder time as they walked out.

 

Ray can only hope that this Leonard sticks around, because he’s not sure Mick can lose him again.

 

Ray can only hope that this Leonard sticks around, because he’s not sure _he_ can lose him again. And, after all, this is _their_ Leonard. Losing him would hurt more than Leo leaving did, because he was only temporary anyway. Losing him would hurt more than sending younger Leonard back to 2013 did, because at least that Leonard would grow into _their_ Leonard.

 

No, no, Ray can’t think about this. They’ve just gotten Leonard back, he should be celebrating. He should be _happy_.

 

He is, he truly is. There’s a warmth in his bones, but he also knows how much Mick is hurting, and it hurts him too. His _friend_ is in pain, and he’s always been too empathetic for his own good.

 

“Hey,” Leonard calls, addressing the whole group, breaking through his thoughts, “I’m having a Chanukkah party tonight, it was just, uh, don’t get mad at me, but just with Lisa—yes, I told her I’m alive, that might be the anachronism, shut up Sara—but you all should come.”

 

“And then you’ll get back on the ship?” Jax asks.

 

Leonard nods. “If you’ll all have me back,” he says, looking pointedly at Mick. Mick doesn’t respond. Nate wraps an arm tight around his waist, which Mick doesn’t respond to, either.

 

“Of course,” Ray says, smiling wide to hide his worry.

 

“You’re part of the team,” Sara says, whacking Leonard on the shoulder. “You’re _stuck with us_ , Snart.”

 

“Ow,” Leonard says, rubbing at where she hit him. “So, yes to coming over?”

 

“We’d love to!” Nate says, and Ray can see his arm tightening further around Mick’s waist.

 

“I need to go get more groceries and start cooking,” Leonard says, glancing around at all of them. “Anyone want to come help?” He’s still looking at Mick, but Mick isn’t reacting.

 

So, Ray steps in, to keep Mick from losing it. “I’ll help,” he offers. “I’ve made a few Chanukkah dinners for the team—”

 

“ _With Gideon’s help_ ,” Sara reminds him pointedly.

 

“Yes, okay,” Ray says, “sometimes my things don’t turn out great, but I _also_ know everyone’s dietary restrictions.”

 

“Only you and Zari have dietary restrictions,” Jax points out.

 

“Yes, but do _you_ know our dietary restrictions?” Ray counters. Silence. “I’ll help with groceries.”

 

Leonard nods and scribbles down his address on a piece of paper for Sara. “Come over in an hour or two. I don’t have a big enough lawn for the Waverider, but there’s a soccer field nearby. Let Raymond know if there are any problems getting there and we’ll figure something out.”

 

“We got it,” Sara says, snatching the piece of paper and sticking it in her pocket.

 

They all file out, Nate practically hauling Mick away. It will be good for him to get some space, get his thoughts in order, before coming back to spend more time with Leonard. Ray is sure Nate will keep him from drowning himself too much in booze, but still, he’s worried.

 

It seems as though Leonard is too, because his first question once everyone else disappears is, “Is Mick okay?”

 

Ray shrugs. “It’s been tough for him, these past few years. He’s been through…a lot. Too much.”

 

Leonard hums, thoughtful. “I thought he’d be…”

 

“Happier?” Ray asks. Leonard nods. “Maybe if this was the first time we’ve seen a version of you since you, well, _died_.”

 

“There have been others?” Leonard asks.

 

“A few. A hallucination, maybe, we’re still unsure about what caused it. A younger version of you. Another earth version.”

 

“Earth-2?” Leonard asks. “The _mayor_?”

 

Ray looks at him in confusion. “Mayor? No, this was from, uh, they called it Earth-X. He went by Leo. He and his boyfriend helped save the day, and then he hung out on the Waverider for a bit.”

 

“Good to know I’m not straight on that earth, either,” Leonard says, starting to lead Ray out of his office and to his car. “And yeah, Earth-2 me is the mayor of Central City. Or maybe Lisa is; all I know is Cisco told me there’s a Mayor Snart of Central City on Earth-2.”

 

Ray chuckles quietly to himself, thinking about that. It’s less ridiculous now that he’s met multiple versions—well, now that he’s met _Leo_ , but it’s still entertaining.

 

Silence falls between them as they walk to Leonard’s car. Ray wants to say something, wants to ask questions, but there are _so many questions_ and he can’t pick where to start. Every time he starts to open his mouth his mind just fills with static. There are so many things he wants to know, so much he wants to ask. He keeps sneaking peeks at Leonard, because it still doesn’t feel real.

 

He still can’t believe that this is _their_ Leonard. It’s not Leo, it’s not younger Leonard, it’s the Leonard they loved and lost. Ray’s seen dinosaurs and vikings, he’s fought speedsters and people who wore the faces of those he’s loved. He’s seen more than one person back from the dead, more than once.

 

So why is this one hitting him so hard?

 

Leonard lets him flounder all the way to the car, and doesn’t speak until they’re settled in with their seat belts on and Leonard’s turned the heat up to full blast. “Are _you_ okay?” he asks, his voice kinder than Ray has ever heard it.

 

“Me?” Ray asks, shocked. “Yeah, what? I’m—I’m fine! This is great! I’m glad you’re alive!”

 

Leonard snorts softly as he shifts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking spot. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Raymond, glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

 

“I _am_ happy you’re alive!” Ray insists.

 

“I know, I know,” Leonard says. “But you’re having trouble with it, too. You all are. How long has it been for you? I’ve been here for about four years, and I’m not sure how long I was _dead_. Or, in the time stream, or whatever happened to me.”

 

Ray does some mental math, but there’s no way to actively get things to line up, especially with the fact that time just does not exist in the temporal zone. “Three years, for us, give or take infinity,” he says, finally.

 

“That’s a long time.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Leonard’s eyes flick over to him briefly before focusing back on the road. “So I can imagine that finding me alive and well would be a shock, no matter how _happy_ you may be about it.”

 

“I…I guess, yeah,” Ray replies. “Especially for Mick, I mean—I mean he hallucinated you for so long, and didn’t tell any of us about it for most of it.”

 

“I’ll talk to Mick about that,” Leonard says, half-cutting him off. “I’m talking about _you_ right now.”

 

“Me? Why?” Ray asks, and sees Leonard roll his eyes.

 

“Because you’re the one in my car right now, dumbass.”

 

“Oh.”

 

They pull up to the grocery store as it starts to snow again. Ray starts shivering the second he gets out of the car and Leonard laughs at him, not unkindly.

 

“Did you think that because you’re a time traveler that weather doesn’t affect you anymore?” he asks, laughter clear behind his words.

 

“No,” Ray insists, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “I just didn’t think about it.”

 

Leonard pops the trunk and rummages around in it for a few seconds, pulling out a thick, fleece blanket. “Here.” He steps up to Ray, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders.

 

“We’re just going into the grocery store,” Ray insists. “The entrance is right there.” He points at the door, over only about ten cars between them.

 

“And I don’t want you catching cold,” Leonard says. He’s close, Ray realizes, feeling the warmth radiating from the other man. Leonard’s hands are still holding the blanket shut around him.

 

“I’ll have to make matzoh ball soup,” Ray says, on the verge of stammering but managing to hold it together. Leonard is _very close_ and his brain keeps yelling that fact at him. He swallows and continues, “You know, so even if I get chilled, I won’t get sick.”

 

“ _Make_ matzoh ball soup?” Leonard asks, letting go of the blanket and pressing a button on his car keys to close the trunk. He leads Ray into the grocery store as he continues, “I was just gonna buy it. My mom died and _Lewis_ burned all her shit before I was old enough to inherit her recipe.”

 

“I have a recipe if you want it,” Ray offers.

 

Leonard glances back over his shoulder. “With you?”

 

Ray reaches out of the blanket briefly to tap his head, immediately regretting it as the cold air bites through his sweater. “Eidetic memory. It’s always with me. Although, I don’t suppose there’s a kosher butcher in here?”

 

“I don’t keep a kosher household, so I don’t care, but I think there’s one up the street if you really need it,” Leonard says.

 

“As long as they have a marrow bone, that should be fine,” Ray answers as they walk into the store. He doesn’t keep kosher, either. Well, he doesn’t eat pork. Or most shellfish, but that’s because he’s not entirely unsure he’s not allergic to shellfish. “Um, and we’ll have to boil the matzoh balls in a separate pot so I can, you know, eat the soup.”

 

“Right,” Leonard says, “celiac and matzoh meal doesn’t really mix. Maybe there’s gluten free matzoh meal,” he muses, wandering over to the store’s surprisingly large Chanukkah display.

 

Ray grabs a cart and throws the blanket into it, trailing behind Leonard.

 

When they get to the display, Leonard kneels down, following the line of boxes and tins, before straightening up with an, “Aha!” He holds up a box in triumph, a box of gluten-free matzoh meal. He tosses it unceremoniously into the cart as Ray’s heart lifts. He hasn’t made matzoh balls that he’s been able to eat since he was a kid, and even Gideon has a hard time fabricating gluten-free things for him sometimes.

 

“Grab a box of regular, too,” Ray says. Leonard nods and grabs that box, tossing it into the cart as well. Together they walk around the grocery store, picking up all the ingredients they need. “Are we gonna have anything else? Latkes? A protein?”

 

“Hmm,” Leonard muses. “Yes to latkes. What are, uh, _Zari_ , was it? What are her dietary restrictions?”

 

“Zari, yeah. No pork, like me,” Ray says. “No alcohol or anything made with alcohol. Those are the main ones, and she’ll eat most meats even if they’re not halal certified, but it’s nice if they are.”

 

“The store has some nice pre-made brisket,” Leonard suggests. “It’s _definitely_ not halal, but it _is_ kosher if that helps at all.”

 

Ray nods. “That should be good. Zari isn’t the strictest, but she tries to follow it when she can. I mean, she’s strict about the alcohol part and the pork part.”

 

“So, yes to the brisket?” Leonard asks, already walking over to the counter where pre-made foods are displayed

 

“Yes to the brisket,” Ray answers, grabbing ingredients as they go and setting them gently into the cart.

 

Shopping done, they pile everything in Leonard’s trunk, Ray wrapped once again in the blanket that he’s more grateful for than he can say.

 

“It’s not a big deal, Raymond,” Leonard says when Ray tries to articulate it.

 

But it’s not just about the blanket. Ray isn’t sure how to put that into words, though, so he just stops talking about it and helps load up the car.

 

The drive to Leonard’s house is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Ray still wants to chatter, but he always wants to chatter. He just can’t figure out what he wants to say, or _how_ he wants to say it, so he doesn’t.

 

He wants to say how much he’s missed Leonard, but he’s not sure why.

 

He wants to say how much it hurts to have Leonard back, but he’s not sure why.

 

He wants to say that seeing Leonard again, being at his side, means more to him than, well, than he can say. He’s just not sure _why_.

 

* * *

 

When Ray steps into Leonard’s house and introduces himself to Lisa, he gets greeted with a fist to the face. He doesn’t bleed, nothing breaks, but it _hurts_. Leonard throws an ice pack at Ray before dragging his sister out into the cold. Ray hears their raised voices as he presses the ice to his face with one hand and starts unpacking groceries with the other.

 

“WHAT’D YOU DO THAT FOR?”

 

“HE DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE DEAD!”

 

“SO YOU HAUL OFF AND PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE?”

 

“I KNOW YOU LIKE HIS FACE, LENNY, BUT YEAH, I’M GONNA PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE FOR NOT TELLING ME YOU WERE—”

 

The door swings shut fully, and their words muffle. He’s sure their voices are carrying, but since the front yard is pretty wooded in, they’re probably not worried about neighbors overhearing. Ray could maybe make their words out if he tried, but he’s tired and auditory processing is hit or miss for him anyway. He focuses on laying out ingredients as best he can with one hand, getting everything together.

 

Soup, first. That takes the longest to make, and the rest of the team will be here soon. Once he’s gotten everything laid out, he puts down the ice so he can cut up the chicken and place it into the pot of water he’s got heating up. He drops that in, followed by the marrow bones that he usually gets from a kosher butcher (but this will be good enough for a non-kosher crowd) and turns the temperature up. While that gets up to boiling, he cuts onions, parsnips, celery and carrots.

 

Halfway through cutting the vegetables, the voices outside stop and Leonard and Lisa come back inside, faces red from cold and yelling. Their eyes are both red as well, and Ray is sure that whatever they were fighting about was more than just Ray not telling Lisa that her brother was dead.

 

“ _Lisa_ ,” Leonard says, clearly having had a discussion about what Lisa was going to say to Ray when they came back inside. Ray just glances up briefly before returning to cutting carrots. He’ll let the siblings talk it out, he doesn’t want to get in the way.

 

Lisa sighs heavily. “I’m sorry for punching you in the face, Ray,” she says, sounding like it physically pains her to say.

 

“That’s okay!” Ray says, grinning up at her. Leonard grimaces and rushes forward to stop the knife that Ray took his attention off of from coming down onto Ray’s fingers. His hand wraps, icy cold, around Ray’s wrist.

 

“Can you pay attention to what you’re doing?” Leonard asks, annoyed, cold pouring off him as his body temperature adjusts to being back inside in the warmth.

 

“Sorry,” Ray says, looking down at the hand around his wrist.

 

Lisa groans and stalks off deeper into the house, disappearing around a corner.

 

“Don’t mind her,” Leonard mutters, his thumb rubbing briefly against Ray’s wrist before he removes his hand entirely. “She doesn’t want to lose me again.”

 

“I can relate,” Ray blurts out, and almost puts his hands over his mouth before he remembers he’s still holding a knife.

 

Leonard notices and gently but firmly removes the knife from Ray’s hand. “How about I finish cutting the vegetables and handle all the knife work and you get something else ready,” he suggests, his voice low and soothing.

 

Ray nods and for the next few minutes they move around each other, finishing the prep for the soup and mixing together ingredients for matzoh balls so the thick grayish paste can chill in the fridge. Leonard pulls out aprons for the both of them, a Star Trek one in sciences blue that he hands to Ray, and a Chanukkah-themed one for himself. Ray only slightly burns himself skimming the fat off the top of the soup as it comes to a boil, and Leonard takes over _that_ , too.

 

“I’m not usually this clumsy!” Ray insists. He’s _not_ , and he thinks it’s because he’s nervous. He doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to scare Leonard away, and he’s never been around Leonard like this. Alone, domestic, hands brushing each other as they cook together.

 

Ray can feel _home_ blooming up in his heart. The Legends are home, the Waverider is home, and by all accounts this should feel like the same brand of home. Leonard is part of the team, of the family, so why does this feel different?

 

He’s in the way, always in the way, and Leonard’s hands are on his waist, gently moving him _out_ of the way—and his heart is speeding up, his mouth going dry and. Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Oh, _damn_.

 

Ray doesn’t always register when he has a crush on someone, especially after those feelings get all tangled up in loss and pain. Leonard has stepped around him and is busy cutting potatoes into smaller pieces to shove into the food processor for latkes, and Ray wants to step forward and press his body against Leonard’s back, to feel his warmth, to run his hands along Leonard’s skin, the scar-covered forearms that Ray had never seen until Leonard rolled up his sleeves to start the cooking process.

 

He takes a tentative step forward, crossing half the distance between them. Leonard glances back over his shoulder, his hands stilled at what he’s doing, a question and an invitation in his eyes. Ray takes another step and—

 

 _Knock, knock, knock_. “We’re here!” Sara calls through the door. “And it’s fucking freezing so let us in!”

 

Ray steps back, realizing what he almost did. “Uh, I’ll get it,” he says, and half-runs to the door. He flings it open, and the Legends pour in, hands full of various things. Sara’s got vodka, Mick’s got beer, Nate’s got sufganiyot, Zari has grape juice, Amaya has brownies (gluten-free, Ray hopes), and Jax has whiskey.

 

“Put them on the counter,” Leonard directs, wiping his hands on his apron. “I’m Leonard Snart,” he says, holding out his hand to greet the newbies.

 

“Zari,” she says, dropping her grape juice on the counter and shaking his hand before wandering off to poke at the food.

 

“It’s not ready yet,” Ray says, as she peers into the pot of soup. She makes a face at him and snatches the box of donuts from Nate, grabbing one out and shoving it in her mouth.

 

“Sorry, they’re not gluten-free, man,” Nate says, as he sees Ray eyeing the box. Ray shrugs, used to it. The round, powder-covered donuts have never been a part of his Chanukkah celebrations anyway.

 

Amaya finishes her introduction, and the Legends all look at Ray. “Right,” he says, clapping his hands together, and takes charge. Jax steals his apron, which he’s fine with, since he’s better at directing than cooking anyway. Soup is simmering, Amaya’s and Sara’s hands are covered in oil as they dip their hands into matzoh mixture and roll it into balls, and latkes are crispy and cooling on paper towels that also serve to whisk the excess oil away. Zari’s already eaten three, and they haven’t sat down at the table yet.

 

It’s chaos, and Ray loves it.

 

* * *

 

Lisa comes back out when the noise level gets unbearable, pouting slightly less. Ray gets it, she’s losing her brother again, so soon after she got him back. They have to talk about that, about if Lisa gets to keep her memories.

 

About if it would be better for Lisa to lose these memories, and know, in 2017, maybe in 2018, that her brother is alive. That she didn’t lose him after all.

 

That’s for later, and for Sara to decide. Well, for Sara to argue with the Snart siblings about. None of Ray’s business.

 

* * *

 

They light the candles, the shamash first and then three for the third night. Prayers, for Chanukkah, over the wine—or grape juice for Zari and Amaya—over the challah that Ray steals a bite of that he’s going to regret later.

 

“Can I say the shehecheyanu?” Ray asks, eyes catching on the blue of Leonard’s.

 

“For me?” Leonard asks, voice soft. “If you want.”

 

Ray turns to the Legends, to Lisa. “The shehecheyanu is a prayer of celebration,” he explains, for the Legends who don’t know. “It’s usually only said on the first night of Chanukkah, but it’s also said for the good things that happen in life, and, well, Leonard coming back to life is pretty amazing.” He says it alone at first, “ _Baruch atah Adonai—”_

Leonard joins in, “— _Eloheinu Melech haolam—”_

And Lisa, “— _shehecheyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh_.”

 

_Blessed are you, Adonai our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, for giving us life, sustaining us, and enabling us to reach this season._

 

* * *

 

Somehow, at the table, Ray gets seated next to Leonard, with Lisa on the other side and Mick sat directly across. It’s loud, like all Legends parties are, and happy, but there’s tension too.

 

Tension in the way Mick’s jaw clenches, in the way he and Lisa avoid each other’s eyes.

 

Tension in the way Nate laughs too loud at any and all jokes, his gaze flicking from Mick to Ray to Leonard to Lisa and back to Mick.

 

Tension in the way Ray’s skin prickles whenever Leonard leans in close to him, arms brushing as Leonard reaches over him for the plate of latkes, for the bowl of applesauce. In the way Leonard’s knee rests against his halfway through dinner, after they’ve finished the latkes and cleared the soup bowls away and are happily making their way through a metric ton of brisket, and more than a few bottles of wine.

 

Tension in Ray’s shoulders as he tentatively and slowly slips his hand under the table, tapping his fingers against Leonard’s knee. A question, and he glances over to finish asking it. Leonard’s eyes are _warm_ , and he gives the smallest hint of a nod before turning his attention back to trying to get Mick to talk to him.

 

Tension, ebbing slowly as Ray’s fingers curl on the curve of Leonard’s knee.

 

Zari, seated next to Ray, jabs an elbow into his ribs and Ray jumps, pulling his hand back. “What?” he hisses.

 

She smirks at him, her eyes pointedly looking over at Leonard before back at him. “What’s up with you two?” she asks, her voice a low murmur. Ray shrugs, but Zari won’t let that lie. “I saw that,” she says.

 

Ray tries to protest, but she just grins at him. He’s very aware of the heat of Leonard at his side, their legs still pressed together. He’s very aware that Leonard’s hearing is spectacular, that he can split his attention with terrifying precision. He’s very aware of the hand that trails along his thigh, teasing, leaving streaks of heat as it makes its way up and then off. He’s very aware that Zari saw it, that his face is turning red, and that Leonard knows _exactly_ what he’s doing.

 

“I need some air,” Ray says, standing up and walking out, hearing Leonard make excuses and follow behind him. It’s full dark out, the snow glistening in the blue and white lights strung up around the edges of the house, in the glow of the moon.

 

It’s freezing, and Ray almost walks back inside. He turns to see Leonard walk out, carrying a bundle of blankets. They look at each other as the door shuts quietly. Leonard steps forward and shakes out the blanket—one blanket. It’s _one_ blanket. Leonard tosses it over his own shoulders and then steps forward again, slowly.

 

Ray takes a step, too, closing the distance between them, and taking the offered side of the blanket. It’s not big enough that there can be any space between them, so they don’t let there be. Their arms wrap around each other, inside the blanket. It’s cold, but Leonard is warm, his body pressed flush against Ray’s. He’s _soft_ , there’s _give_ , and Ray sinks into it, into him.

 

Leonard nuzzles into Ray’s neck, his nose already cold from being outside. Ray laughs at the motion. It’s so _easy_. So _familiar_ , despite the fact that they’ve barely touched each other before this.

 

“I never thought I’d see you again so I didn’t think…” Ray trails off, not wanting to ruin the magic of the moment by saying something stupid.

 

“I knew you’d find me,” Leonard says. “I just didn’t know if you’d feel the same, or if you’d…”

 

“If I’d have moved on?”

 

“ _Is it_ moving on if we didn’t date? If you dated someone else?”

 

Ray doesn’t know the answer to that, but he does know this: “I didn’t move on. I missed you. More than I ever thought I would.”

 

Leonard lifts his head, leaning back so he can look Ray in the eyes. _Home_ is all Ray can think, all he feels, as they lean in, lips pressing together softly.

 

 _Home_ is all Ray feels as they go back inside after a few minutes, hand-in-hand. As they’re surrounded by their team, by _family_.

 

 _Home_ is the Legends, the Waverider, _Leonard_ , and Ray isn’t naive enough to think it’s going to last forever, but he’s going to cling to it with everything he has and maybe, just maybe, they’ll make it through this together.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this, and, Rachel, I was 99% sure this was for you, and I'm so glad it turned out that it was! Love you!
> 
> Also, thank you to Ruth for beta-ing! Love you!


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